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(startfile: 2.51.05.am 8.2.96)

neko's welcome
--------------

well, after not getting any mix tapes in the mail, i must assume that either
a) no one read the welcome in flc 3
b) no one cares enough to send one
i'm sure that choice b is the correct one. 
I almost forgot -- I am using proper typing skills now. I received an email, 
and, for whatever reason, it changed me. I woke up. Whatever. I type normally 
now. I will include that email in this issue. I really can't think of much else 
to say in the welcome except that I am mailing this issue to about 100 people 
or so whose addresses I got from various magazines and newspapers. Hope they 
enjoy and become full fledged zine d00dz. Oh, one thing I just thought of: My 
friend Justin has written two stories that will be in this issue. They're 
pretty good, I think.

Later,

John

Index
-----
01 ... neko's welcome
02 ... Blind Victory by JayTee
03 ... january 28th, 1996
04 ... Love -- who needs it?
05 ... january 29th, 1996
06 ... The email that changed my world
07 ... january 30th, 1996
08 ... Shatter by JayTee
09 ... january 31st, 1996
10 ... Lost love
11 ... february 1st, 1996
12 ... I had a dream
13 ... february 2nd, 1996
14 ... The previously mentioned letter to Allison
15 ... february 3rd, 1996
16 ... IGNOREamus
17 ... february 4th, 1996
18 ... Plant a zine
19 ... february 5th, 1996
20 ... byebye

Blind Victory by JayTee
-----------------------

 It was the day of the big game, and all of Patesville was excited.  All
 except one.  Joe, a senior at Patesville High, couldn't wait until the
 football season was over.  He had put his time in, and wanted to get on
 with his life.  There was one main reason why he wanted the season to
 end:  his father, who he looked up to, was blind.  He attended all his
 son's games, but he could only hear the crowd roar and the sound of
 helmets cracking.

 Joe's poor efforts showed on the field during that night of the game.
 He missed an easy catch given to him that allowed the opposing team
 to win the game.

 "What's the matter with you?!" stormed Patesville's football coach,
 "Don't you even care what your team's fate is?"

 Joe gave a blank stare back at the coach.  Inside, he said "no", he
 didn't care.  He didn't respond to the coach and walked away.

 Patesville lost the game.  They were tied with an arch rival and were
 to play one remaining game to determine the conference champion.

 The Patesville Coach did what any other intelligent coach would have:
 he put Joe on the bench.  Joe heard the news the following Monday
 after the game.  He really didn't care.  He just trudged home after school
 to his home like any other day.  However, this Monday was not just an
 ordinary day.

 Joe walked inside his house only to hear his mom sob openly.

 "What's the matter, Mom?"

 "Joe, I have some terrible news for you...your father died of a sudden
 heart attack today while you were at school."

 Joe was devastated.  He had looked up to his father his whole life.
 This was a knife in the heart for him.  He didn't know what to do;
 he would try to cope with it and get on with his life.  He knew it
 would be hard, but he tried anyway.

 The week rolled on, and then Friday came, the day of the football
 conference final.	Joe started the game on the bench due to his poor
 efforts the past game.	However, something sparked Joe's urge to play
 in the game.

 "Coach, can you put me in, I gotta play," Joe told the coach.

 "Not now, Joe, we have a game to win."

 Joe sat back down on the bench.  Halftime rolled around with Patesville
 up by 7.  The third quarter of the game came and went.  Joe sat
 patiently but eagerly on the bench.  The opposing team scored a
 touchdown during the third quarter to even the score up.

 "Coach, can you please put me in.  I promise to give it my all."

 With two minutes left in the game, with the score tied, the coach put
 Joe into the game.

 Possessions changed a few times.	Patesville had the ball at the 50
 yard line with 30 seconds to go.

 "I'll take this one," Joe spoke up to the quarterback.

 The next snap was given to Joe.  He took off with grace.  He psyched
 guys out left and right and ran the ball to the endzone just as time
 was expiring.  Joe had become a hero.

 The coach talked to Joe after the game.

 "Great game, Joe!  What got into you?"

 Joe paused for a moment, then said, "Today was the first time my dad
 has had the chance to see me play."  Joe pointed towards the sky.
 
january 28th, 1996 -- 10:37pm
-----------------------------

spent the last three days making dub tapes for allison. hope she likes them. 
tim and i went to toad hall today. i got a rem record and a violent femmes 
record. tim is going to auburn's winter formal with megan. maybe i should ask 
someone - but i've got this tremendous rejection fear. my parents would be 
happy if i went to winter formal. it'd show some sign of normalcy - can't do 
that! maybe i'll host another movie party - but too many people will probably 
go to winter formal. i don't know how this stuff works. how you know what is 
right and when. last night i wondered if anyone thinks i'm shallow - 
particularly the people i think are shallow. i wonder if they'd get this: "i 
love you, i just don't like you." probably not. i just realized i've got 
chemistry homework due tomorrow. oh well. i've been dead tired all weekend. did 
i have fun this weekend. it's a tough call, but i'd have to say yes, for the 
most part. except allison didn't call. why do i fixate on that so much? i'm 
sure she doesn't set out to not call, she just forgets. i'm justifying. hoo 
boy. what's worse is that i'm justifying something that doesn't need 
justification.

Love -- who needs it?
---------------------

	This was my recent conclusion brought on by a lot of things. Mainly my 
lack of ability to get any female to 'like' me as much as I like them. 
Actually, I don't really know if they 'liked' me -- I never found the courage 
to ask.
	I think that part of the reason I never ask about someone's feelings, much 
less make mine known, is that, more than being afraid that the other person 
won't feel the same way, I am afraid that they *will* feel the same way. If 
they did, I wouldn't know what to do. Especially now, what with me going to 
Russia and all. If I call Her up tomorrow and say, "Hey. I like you. I mean I 

	
really* like you. Alot. But you probably already knew that," what would Her 


reaction be? Would she have realized it all along? If she hadn't, would I be as 
devastated as I think I'd be? There's only one way to find out, and I don't 
plan on doing it. I mean, I'd really like to, and something deep inside of me 
wants to know, but not enough to actually find out. If She had email, I'd feel 
completely comfortable asking there -- just like I feel completely comfortable 
spilling my guts to a bunch of strangers. 
	In conclusion, even though She makes me so ... so very happy (imagine 
Blood Sweat & Tears performing that song right now) I don't think I want to 
know if I do the same for her.
	Love -- who needs it?
	
january 29th, 1996 -- 10:04pm
-----------------------------

you say that you're leaving
and I know that it is true
you say that you're leaving
you think i won't know just what to do
you've been gone such a long long time
so long i finally lost my mind
~~~~~
that's not exactly as i thought it up, but its kinda sorta close. i was dead on 
my feet today. SO FUCKING TIRED! i won't come home from school tomorrow until, 
like, 9PM. stupid basketball game. steve told me i should get a copy of our 
case history. he said i'll be surprised at what triggered the investigation. 
apparently it wasn't me hacking rrsbbs. apparently its something no one knew 
about. i got assigned to symphonic band today. no change from this year. 
allison did, too. she again seemed upset. with this and not making jazz band, i 
wonder if she'll do something drastic like drop band altogether. i hope not. 
reason? if nothing else, i will enjoy her company again next year in symphonic 
band. <sigh> i need to talk to her, but so far no time has been the right time.

The email that changed my world
-------------------------------

First of all, on 7/16/96, I sent this email to a friend of mine.

i was listening to my rem _automatic for the people_ cd.

the song 'everybody hurts' came on.

i listened to the lyrics.

everybody hurts sometimes.

then, later,

take comfort in your friends.

well, damnit, i can't. i don't *have* any friends. i haven't talked to my best friend in over a month, not due to any lack of attempt on my part. and when a certain someone else is never home, and never returns calls, you begin to wonder what the status is with *that* relationship.

the problem is, all of my friends are 'virtual'.

sure, i know many of them in person, but...

it just isn't the same.

i mean, even right now, i'm fucking writing email rather than talking.

i have no one to talk to.

life's a bitch, eh?

To which I got this reply:

I'm sorry, but you are definitely one of the most depressing people I have ever
met in my entire life.  Believe me when I say that I have tried repeatedly to 
sympathize and to understand what you are going through, but I just can't.  
Perhaps the fact that I spend fifteen hours a day with dozens to hundreds of 
other people makes me appreciate the little time I have to myself.  I think 
what you are going through is a stereotypical bout of high school angstiness, 
and I honestly think that it's just a phase; hopefully your spending a year in 
Russia will help get you out of it.

As for Angie...
She is going through some of the same angstiness you are experiencing and might 
be able to sympathize better than I, but I think she feels more than slightly 
overwhelmed by your calling her every day.  I know how you feel about her, but I 
think you are turning her off and driving her away.  If I were you, I'd let her 
have a little space so that she can better appreciate your friendship.  And 
right now, that's all that she wants from you -- *friend*ship.

<real name deleted>

Reading that reply hit me hard. I got an apologetic letter the next day, but 
the damage, so to speak, had been done. Something in this letter right here 
made me change. from typing all in lower case, which i'd been doing for the 
past year, to typing with proper capitalization. Also, I stopped calling Angie 
every day. I haven't talked to her in about two weeks now. I don't know what is 
going on, or if this is the best thing to do. What I *do* know is that she 
hasn't called me. Of course, my line is usually busy because I am online, but 
there are two phone lines going into my house. Oh well -- at this point, I 
don't think I'm going to lose any sleep over it.

january 30th, 1996 -- 10:16pm
-----------------------------

was at school from 7:30AM to 8:30PM. Fun, Fun, Fun! Really, thats about it. oh. 
from my observations, people DON'T change. Do I really need to give examples? 
disappointment of the day: allison didn't come to the basketball game. oh, 
well. i didn't dwell on it and had a good time regardless.

Shatter by JayTee
-----------------

 Authors Note
 ------------
 This story was adopted from an old episode of 'The Twilight Zone.'
 I happened to catch the ending of one of the episodes and decided to
 base this story around that ending.  Enjoy.
 ------------

 The world stood in the ominous cloud of a nuclear war.  Tensions were
 flaring between the United States and the Soviet Union.  Both countries
 threatened to use powerful hydrogen-bombs against one another.	The
 world was shocked and scared, all except one.

 Mr. Adams, a record keeper at the local bank, didn't care much about
 the world's problems.  All he wanted was piece and quiet.  He was an
 avid book reader and wanted all the time in the world to sit down and
 read his favorite literature.  Also, Mr. Adams was 75 years old and
 wasn't afraid of dying, so if he died, he would have had a 'complete'
 life.

 "This is NBC News reporting that the Soviets have threatened to use
 nuclear weapons against the United States if they did not give in to
 the treaty.  The United States do not wish to sign the treaty and have
 threatened to retalliate against the Soviet Union.  I don't think that
 bomb shelters will do any good in this situation.  All we can do is
 hope for the best," reported anchorman Paul Jones.

 The world ran around in disarray.  They scurried around, trying to find
 something to satisfy their last few minutes on Earth.  Meanwhile, Mr.
 Adams had to go down in the low basement of the local bank to dig up
 some old records for himself.

 That's when it happened.

 The H-Bomb, sent by the Soviet Union, hit the United States with a
 powerful impact.  It left a devastating impact on the nation, so
 devastating that it killed everyone on the US.  All, except one.

 Mr. Adams had come up from the low basement of the bank to a unexpected
 surprise.  He looked around.  He saw no people.	He looked around.  He
 saw buildings collapsed and debris surrounding him.  However, he saw
 something that pleased him dearly.

 He saw a library nearby.  Somehow, some of the books were still in good
 condition.  This was like finding gold for Mr. Adams.  He loved
 reading.  Now, since the whole world was gone, he had all the time in
 the world to read books.  So, Mr. Adams laid out books that he would
 read the first year, some books for the second year, and so on.  Then,
 something hit Mr. Adams that would change his life forever.

 Mr. Adams's glasses fell off his face and broke on impact with the
 ground.
 
january 31st, 1996 -- 10:06pm
-----------------------------

mere moments ago i had words to say. where did they go? we got the foreign 
exchange student stuff today. The Netherlands and Russia seem like prime 
candidates to me. ha-ha. this was the first time in recent memory that i wore 
my beck shirt and jill didn't say, "BUNNY RABBIT! NEAT!" or something equally 
dumb. surprise of the day: paula called me for the first time in probably two 
months or so. we talked for an hour and a half. tim and i are going record 
shopping saturday. i called allison. she said she was talking to her mom and 
would either call me back or talk to me tomorrow. when she said that an hour 
ago, i wa certain it would be the latter. seeing as how my phone hasn't rang, 
it obviously is. so i guess i'll have to settle for a word here and there, a 
glance, maybe something else. if she were to say she was sorry for not being 
able to call, would i say it was OK? would it be? if my phone were to ring, and 
allison was on the other end, it would legitimize something to me, i'm not sure 
exactly what. i wonder if i can trust stacy. maybe i'll ask her if she thinks i 
have any chance whatsoever with allison. whoa. i sure write alot about nothing. 
in other, unrelated news, if you were going insane, would you realize it? 

Lost love
---------

I'm not exactly sure why I'm writing this. Then again, I'm not exactly sure why 
I write *anything*. Perhaps it's just to have something to look back upon when 
I'm older. Who knows. Anyhow, I am going to provide you, the reader, with 
something you no doubt care about: A list (as complete as I can remember) of 
all the girls I've ever really had a crush on, and what became of it. By the 
way, out of "respect" (in some cases very little amounts) for these people, I 
will not print their last name.

Madonna -- I fell in love with Madonna before I knew what love was. It was the 
video with the kid going to the porn show that did it for me. Once I saw it, I 
knew that one day Madonna would be mine. It hasn't happened yet, but it will.

Kristen -- I was in 5th grade. She was in 6th. She was blonde, and, in my eyes, 
beautiful. She rode my bus. She talked to me. Ya-hoo. I imagined countless 
times where I would confront her and say, "I like you. I can wait if you can." 
This, of course, being in reference to the fact that she would be in 7th grade 
the next year, and at a different school. I never said those words, and nothing 
ever really became of it, except I told her that I had a crush on her. I told 
her in the 7th grade and added on that I was over it. I told virtually the same 
thing (at the same time even!) to the next person...

Sara -- I was in 6th grade. Sara was blonde. She was popular. And yet, for some 
reason, she liked me. Liked me enough to beg me to sit by her. Once she asked 
me, "If you loved a person, but your friends didn't like them, would you go out 
with them?" I replied, "Yes, my friends would just have to deal with it," and 
hoped that it was me she was referring to. It wasn't. In 7th grade she smiled 
at me once. That was pretty cool, I guess. She also wrote how sexy I looked in 
pink. That gave me hope, but nothing became of anything.

Jen -- In 8th grade, I asked Jen out. Now, to me, "going out" meant nothing. I 
mean, I didn't drive, and I was too embarassed to tell my parents anything 
about girls. So, our relationship amounted to this: We talked on the phone 
once, and she kissed my ear once. Wow. It wasn't until 9th grade that things 
got ... different. We talked then ... alot. It was the BBS world that brought 
us together, really. Anyhow, first semester finals "happened". She came over to 
study with me, and did a bit more than study. I wrote about it retrospectively 
in my journal, maybe it'll make it in here someday. After that, things changed 
between us. I didn't look upon her quite so highly for awhile, although I was 
still attracted to her. At a park where a group of my friends were gathered 
during the summer between 9th and 10th grade, she handcuffed me and took me 
with her to a port-a-potty. Unfortunately, two people came with, so I didn't 
follow her inside. I never did find out what she had planned for me. Later that 
day, I got her to go for a walk with me. We kissed, and I started to lay her 
down on the ground. Unfortunately, her head hit a root that was sticking out of 
the ground. Needless to say, the ended anything that was going to happen there. 
That night, I wrote a letter basically professing my eternal undying love to 
her. It kinda makes me sick to think about it now. Every time I see her now she 
looks like she's wearing maternity clothes.

Sonia -- I met Sonia on a Saturday at a 'gathering'. We hung out for a week, 
then we stopped. I'm sure there was probably a reason, but I don't remember it.

Paula -- I'd been attracted to Paula since 9th grade, but I didn't really talk 
to her at all until 10th grade. One thing I remember about her is when she held 
my hand once. I could swear I felt a spark. It was cool. Anyhow, she liked this 
other guy a whole lot more than me. What was I to do? I gave up.

Allison -- Well, you're all reading about it now. Basically, I stopped having 
feelings for her when she told me I was an asshole. Things like that tend to do 
that to you, I suppose.

Angie -- I don't really know anymore. I think I like her, but I don't know. 
Maybe I love her. How would I know -- I'm 16 years old. Do I have enough life 
experience to feel love?

february 1st, 1996 -- 10:03pm
-----------------------------

i had a dream that stacy was coming here to babysit. certainly odd. in real 
life, stacy asked me if i was going to winter formal. i said no. then she hit 
dead on by sayingm "afraid of rejection" or something like that. i nodded and 
confirmed. then i'm pretty sure i told stacy telling allison to "ask him". i 
can only hope that i am him, i guess. i told natalie that i was thinking of 
becoming an exchange student. she told me that i had to come to russia. i told 
her it was possible. it would be neat to go somewhere that i already know 
someone. oh. i have decided to see mr. whitmore on saturday to help me with my 
analyt. oh, yeah. as of 8:03PM today, the Foo Fighters video for "Big Me" is 
the best video ever.

I had a dream
-------------

This may seem kind of silly to talk about a dream I had with Angie in it, but 
this is one of two dreams I remember distinctly from when I was in Europe (and 
thinking about her every night).

The setting was a school or something. There was a gym, where a dance was being 
held. There were corridors upon corridors of hallways. And, the odd part, there 
was a water ride. All I saw was the "front" part of it. There was three person 
seats going up a stream (by up I mean from bottom to top, like the stream ran 
from the floor to the ceiling). on the side of the stream there was a staircase 
/ gallery of some sort. I was at the dance looking frantically for Angie. I am 
not a dancing person, but I *really* wanted to dance with her, for obvious 
reasons. I looked all over the building. Feeling dejected, I stood on the 
stairs by the stream. I saw her coming up the stream and shouted for joy. She 
saw me and shared my ecstacy. When the seat came by where I was standing, I 
somehow helped her out. I told her I was looking for her to dance with me. She 
told me a similar story. We held hands and walked to the dance area only to 
find out that the dance had ended.

If anyone is an amateur dream interpreter, feel free to take a shot.

The other dream I remember is from the last morning of my trip.

I dreamt that my mom came in my room and said to wake up. I then woke up in 
real life. Then my mom came in the door and said to wake up.

Interpret that!

february 2nd, 1996 -- 10:42pm
-----------------------------

i think i remember everything i did today. lets try for a daily rundown so i 
can snooze! woke up, delivered papers, came back. mom tells me that school was 
canceled. i go back to sleep. 8:30AM -- becky robinson calls - would i like to 
come over ad play cards at 11? i say i am sleeping, call me later. 10AM she 
calls back. i lie and say that i can't get a ride. i feel bad. i get up. fix 
lunch for me + Katie. really bad mac + cheese. i don't want to get into it. 
applied at panino's. went with mom to get the car mirror fixed. cashed my 
check. got the new MRR. found a message from paula on my answering machine. 
called her and talked. read mrr. ate dinner. read mrr. watched x-files. wrote a 
letter to allison in which i ask her out and to winder formal ALL IN THE SAME 
SENTENCE! and maybe i'll even give it to her! and now here i am - time to go to 
sleep. i'm going record shopping tomorrow.

The previously mentioned letter to Allison
------------------------------------------

yo. this sucks, the damned laptop computer i am toying with just nuked what i
wrote. technology - what will it do next. i'll skip over some of the junk i
wrote in my first draft. i like to write. alot. you know that, you've seen it.
by writing so much - especially about feelings, emotions, etc. - i have lost my
way in expressing it vocally. that pretty much sums up what i had before i lost
it. so, while some may see me as blessed with the ability to write, i see it as
a curse. i can't talk. and too often i really want to. but the courage to speak
is not available. yeah, so, anyway, what's the point. i just shut the computer
off again. lucky i saved my progress. have you ever tried typing on a laptop
while laying on a water bed? it's damn near impossible. the point is: there are
things i want to say to you, but i haven't found my voice. were you upset around
finals time? i ask only because i heard your band final. you could've done
better - why did you stop? you could've had an a or a b on it. then you'd be in
wind ensemble next year with most everyone else. this and other things you said
around the same time (probably pertaining to your chemistry final) led me to
think this thought: someone told you that you weren't good enough and you
believed them. don't ask me why that thought, but that was the one. ever notice
how when you have the chance to say things, you usually don't? or maybe its just
me. right now (10pm on 2-2) i am drawing a complete blank on what to say next,
so i guess i'll get to the point. for quite some time now, i have not taken
notice of what people really look like. sure, i suppose i could give general
descriptions of people, but nothing too in depth. i simplt don't notice anymore.
it was rather embarrasing when the cops asked me for my eye color an things like
that. i honestly didn't know. anyway, i see you simply as beautiful. has anyone
told you that before? if so, believe them, they know what they're talking about.
the other day stacy asked me (i think this is somewhat close to the actual
wording of the conversation) if i was going to winter formal with anyone. i told
her no, but i was open to the possibility. she asked if the reason i hadn't
asked anyone (maybe her original question was about whether i'd asked someone)
was fear of rejection. she couldn't be more right. it definitely is something
like that. what is it that drives man and woman, boy and girl, etc, etc, to 'ask
each other out' or 'go to dances' and junk like that. seems rather silly. but
(and lets go back to grade school for this) i like you. y'know like when you'd
talk with someone and say stuff like 'i like him like him' as if the double
usage did something. umm, right. so i guess this is what i'm leading up to: do
you want to go to winter formal with me or go out with me or do whatever the
deal is these days? i honestly don't know what is appropriate. if that is the
right word. i have wanted to say those words, or something rather similar, for
the past few weeks. what has stopped me? fear. fear that something would change
for the worse. i've questioned myself recently: which is worse: to do something
and have it backfire, or to never try and hang on to dreams. i still don't know
the answer. and even though i can't say this now, i would love to. let me know
if you want to hear it.

february 3rd, 1996 -- 10:16pm
-----------------------------

got records today. 25 cents each! rad! i went to whitmore's to be tutored in 
analyt. the hour flew by and i think i kinda maybe know more than i did. i 
started filling out my AFS application. i think i'm going to go to Russia. 
there are some tough questions that i'm really gonna have to think about. 
ACCESS DENIED. i really wish that someone would call me at night. or someone 
would let me call them after 10. as beck said, 'I GET LONESOME'.

IGNOREamus
----------

so what if i have to get up in 5 hours and i haven't slept for 19? i can see
myself walking around ranting: "i don't need drugs, i was born this way." was i
born this way? i certainly didn't become this way by anything artificial like
drugs or alcohol. wouldn't allow that shit to enter my body. did i create
myself? am i self destructing, or am i being dragged down by someone...something
else? maybe i am just in a period of repositioning myself. mostly it is dark
here. however, once in a while, a bright spot is allowed to shine through. but
the darkness always manages to quash the brightness. i wish it weren't so. i
would give anything to stop the cycle. i know the people who could help me. they
know i need the help. so where is the offer? in my thoughts, i was complaining
about how i was less important than others. like if i am talking to someone, the
conversation is immediately over once a certain someone else enters the room. i
am accusing people of ignoring me in favor of someone else. then i realized that
i have a tendency to do it, too. it doesn't seem anymore justified when i do it,
but i don't feel like i've done to anyone else what they've done to me. does
that make sense? of course it doesn't. let me try to explain better: when i am
ignored it usually happens like this: i am talking with someone. someone else
walks in, my conversation ends prematurely. any hope of further conversation
ends until someone else has gone. when i do this, i tend only to focus on the
certain person, not to ignore other people entirely. is it the same thing?
probably. i am just seeing it from the other side. a shunner and a shunee. i
need someone to hold. someone who will be there when i need them. someone who
needs me in return. i guess i'm co-dependant. i have memories of blissful
ignorance. all of this was right under my nose, yet i didn't see it. so why am i
forced to see it now? i don't want to be here anymore. no, i don't want to leave
this life in the physical sense, i just want to leave this life. i want to
change. i want to leave school and explore my self. view my full range of
possibilities. why do i let beautiful things fall at the wayside? are the things
i perceive as chances not taken truly chances? i am too worrisome. for instance,
i don't want to 'ask someone out' simply because i am afraid of what will change
between us should she say know. or if we should break up. i mean, i like being
friends and all, and wouldn't mind going to a 'next level' but at what sacrifice
should i expect? i am not willing to sacrifice friendship for lust. a moment of
passion is great, but what is it compared to a lifetime of love? but then the
doubting voice in my head speaks up. "what if this is my chance? what if i wait
too long and blow it?" too many voices. shut up and let me think. to be young.

february 4th, 1996 -- 8:24pm
----------------------------

i printed out my letter to allison. i hope i'll have the courage to give it to 
her. i had this weird dream. the world was a dark, industrial version of 
itself, and for some reason i used drugs. cocaine or heroin and acid, i think. 
that SCARED me. is my subconcious rebelling against my concious? well, europe 
is finalized. that's where i'll be going in 4 months. i only hope i get to go 
to russia in 6 months. met with my huck finn group for about 2 hours. NOTHING 
ACCOMPLISHED. i am ready to give up. two days to court. i saw chris at the 
library and he said he was going to plead guilty. that leaves brandon as the 
sole unknown.

Plant a zine
------------

I'm going to do something right now that most zinesters won't do -- encourage 
anyone and everyone to start a zine. I believe this is good for the zine 
community because everyone's voices will be heard. Many peoples voices are 
heard now through the likes of doomed to obscurity, but all submissions go 
through a head staff who act as quality control. Subsequently, many submissions 
never see the light of day. Just because dto's exec board didn't like your 
story doesn't mean it isn't good. I wrote a lot of stuff that Mogel never used 
or simply isn't appropriate for dto. So what'd I do? You're looking at it. I 
created a forum where I could express myself. If I write something that I think 
would be good for dto, I give it to Mogel, give him a shot at it. I am not 
encouraging everyone to break off and do their own little zines and not give a 
shit about group efforts. I think if lots of people write their own zines, a 
stronger group effort will come out of it. All of your zines will be good, but 
the group produced zine will be the best, because the best writings of all of 
the zine writers will go into it. That is the point. No one should deny you the 
opportunity to speak your mind.

february 5th, 1996 -- 8:50pm
----------------------------

no big surprise - i "chickened out" and didn't give allison my snazzy little 
note. oh well. i don't know what to do. i did, however, fill out a computer 
dating form. it'll be interesting to see who comes up on my list. not that i 
plan to use it for anything. i think i kinda just resolved not to do the 
boyfriend / girlfriend schtick in high school. too much work for nothing. 
graduate (or dropout!) high school and we go our seperate ways. maybe see each 
other once in awhile. and once the inevitable breakup occurs, any hope for 
friendship will be non-existent. <sigh>

byebye
------

Ba deep, ba deep, ba deep, That's all folks. Nothing more to see here. Move 
along. Email me at neko@firecraker.com. I really do value all comments, 
positive or negative. If you're *really* bored, check out a web page I helped 
design: http://members.aol.com/pitsk8park -- it's ELiTE!@ anyhow. until next 
time...

(endfile: 4.27.30am 8.2.96)